State of Mind

Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - ooh oh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear

Im one card short of a full deck
Im not quite the shilling
One wave short of a shipwreck
Im not my usual top billing
Im coming down with a fever
Im really out to sea
This kettle is boiling over
I think Im a banana tree
Oh dear

Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened - happened
It finally happened - uh huh
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Oh dear

Ooh ooh ah ah
Ooh ooh ah ah
Im knitting with only one needle
Unravelling fast its true
Im driving only three wheels these days
But my dear how about you

Im going slightly mad
Im going slightly mad
It finally happened
It finally happened - oh yes
It finally happened
Im slightly mad
Just very slightly mad

And there you have it.

(lyrics and music by Queen)

Yes. And there you have it. I...I don't really have anything else to say.....

Quicky

I thought that once we were in Nantucket I'd have a little free time. The kids, after all, were scheduled to be in camp from 9 am to 3 pm. Well, I didn't count on one child with a double ear infection and another going to the emergency room to get six stitches, therefore both staying home for the rest of the week. Nor did I count on the kids opting out of camp to stay home and torture me--er--I mean...play. The point is, I've been a lot more busy than I counted on. Especially in the last day or two, I've had the song "I'm Going Slightly Insane" by Queen stuck in my head. The twins have been particularly abusive lately, and I'm afraid my energy for them is entirely depleted. Little Farran has been pretty sweet since she got her stitches, partly because she's more or less helpless (they are on her knee, so she doesn't walk--she hobbles) and partly because everyone has been paying attention to her to make her feel better about having her holidays disrupted by a semi-serious injury. I feel like my being here is almost entirely pointless because the girls won't listen to me and they are entertaining themselves by playing with the kids of the woman whose house we're staying in. I guess I've seemed somewhat melancholy because Farran (mom) asked me what was wrong. I told her I was missing home and family. Telling her that did about as much good as telling her that this job is stressful. "Once you're home, you'll be wishing you were back here!" She keeps telling me I shouldn't be homesick and no sooner will I be back with my family that I'll be sick of them, that I should enjoy seeing all these beautiful houses that we've been staying in. I should enjoy the houses...because that's the only part of the vacation I see. I'm not saying that I should get to go off and play and such, because this my job and I'm getting paid for it. (Actually she hasn't paid me in about six weeks...but she promises she will...) It's just not very much fun lately. Sitting around the house babysitting sick kids isn't exactly thrilling. And the twins really are abusive. Sometimes physically, but most of the time emotionally and mentally. I'm not really taking offense to their words, just to the fact that they are allowed to say those kinds of things to me with little to no fear of getting in trouble for it. And even then I'm not really taking offense, I'm just getting worn out. I'll try and post something a little more detailed and hopefully some pictures soon, but we'll see. So far I haven't taken too many pictures, since mostly all I've seen has been the inside of houses. Anyway, less than two weeks to go. If anyone is willing to have a get-away car ready for me at the airport, I may be willing to pay handsomely for it. Say, two dozen applesauce chocolate chip cookies?

Farewell to London

I'm writing this a little premature, but I'll only be in London for about another 36 hours and I'm not sure, with all the busy business of packing three girls for a two month vacation, that I'll get another chance. Well, my heavens what a time its been these past ten weeks. Ten doesn't seem like a very big number, and in some ways I feel like I've just barely unpacked, and now here I am repacking. The last little while that I've walked around our neighborhood or gone to some of the places I frequent the most, I've begun to realize how used I got to being here. When I walked through Kensington Gardens for the last time yesterday, I slowed down a little and tried to enjoy it a little more than usual. The food here hasn't been awful, but its taken some getting used to; today I realized that it will probably take some getting used to eating American food again. Having done without so much of the things I was so used to, like peanut butter and regular bread, I wonder if I'll even like them still. This past week was especially hard for me. With the girls out of school, I'm a lot more busy at the house. For some reason, being on summer holiday hasn't made their attitudes much better. In fact, they've been particularly difficult recently. Their mom doesn't quite understand how stressful it is for me, or how exhausting. The second they get too annoying for her, I'm in charge and she's suddenly very busy... which is fine. That's what I'm paid for. Sometimes I just find it so tiring that I have to steal away for a few minutes to regain my energy. I think the next few weeks, traveling to New York and Nantucket, will be exciting and lots of fun. I just have no idea how me and Farran are going to lug seven huge suitcases all over the place. I sort of feel like she just packed the things that were in the way, things that she wanted to get out of their closets so they would look neat. I'm not sure we're carrying anything they'll really need. But I'm just the help, what do I know. Ten weeks is a long time to be away from home. At least it is for me. It's a long time to be out of place. Its a long time to be at work. I'm still on the job for at least three more weeks, maybe four. Leaving London still feels like some sort of conclusion, though. I won't go through all the things I learned while being here, partly because there are far too many, and partly because I've already burdened you with them in previous posts. No, I think all I really have to say is that it's been good. Not easy. Good. It's been difficult; one of the hardest things I've ever done. I don't regret coming, though. I know before I left people would say things like, "Oh I've heard horror stories about nannies getting terrible familys" etc, etc. I heard that a lot. And some days I am pretty certain that this is the most horrific thing I've ever done. Some days its all I can do to put on a smile and not beg Farran to send me home on the next flight to Salt Lake. But I don't regret it. I got myself into this, and I think I needed it. I don't think I could have learned so much or grown so much as I have since getting here. Even reading in my journal or through the beginning of my blog, I can tell I'm a different person now than I was on May 5th, before I got on that plane. I hope its a good thing. I'm pretty sure its a good thing. I haven't been able to relax and be myself other than in my own company; I haven't been much of a personality since I'm constantly either at work or exploring by myself. I wonder if when I get home all I'll be able to do is sit on the couch and stare at the wall and slowly unwind. Or perhaps going so long without having a personality, simply being the nanny, will make me even more energetic and social when I get back. Besides that, I think the changes have been good. I sort of know what I'm looking for from life. I guess I sort of knew before, but the details of it aren't quite so hazy. I'm sort of at a loss as to what to say about leaving London...I'll miss it, but I don't know that I'll feel a desperate need to come back for a while. I'm excited for something new, and after that, I'm ridiculously excited for home. I always thought the phrase "home is where the heart is" was somewhat trite and cliche, but now I feel like that phrase is me in a nutshell. Three weeks. I can make it.

Give me liberty or give me...chocolate and a hot bath!

Don't be alarmed, but I think I may have seriously overdosed on chocolate today. In England, they call 999 for emergencies, so if worse comes to worse, I know how to get myself help. Actually, I am quite enjoying the aftertaste of the last half hour or so. You see, today was the girls' last day of school. Little Farran has a half day tomorrow, but basically today was it. So, I had a very good reason to go back to Patisserie Valerie and get myself another enormous chocolate eclair with chocolate cream. I cannot describe to you the glorious deliciousness that it was. The utter contentment of the moment...it was beautiful. After doing the necessary chores around the house this morning, and after Farran was off for a big meeting and the girls were off to school, I pulled on my hoodie, my hat, my tennis shoes, and grabbed my umbrella and went out into the rain that has been pouring for the last three days now. Besides Patisserie Valerie, I had another errand to run. My aunt is making chocolates and I had a few chocolate shops to visit while being in London that had very special flavors (rose and violet in particular). So, not only did I have the eclair to eat today, I had to (HAD to) sample the chocolates, as well as some I bought yesterday from another store. It was a messy job, but I think I handled it quite well. Along with the chocolate fix, I also had myself a very long, very hot bath as it may be one of the last times I get to wash until we get to America. It's incredibly difficult to shower while the girls are home because they think it is hilarious to walk in on me, and since the bathroom doesn't lock...well, generally I just wait until they are at school. Since there is no more school, though... Anyway, suffice it to say, this morning and afternoon have been my way of mourning/celebrating the last day of school. I plan on cuddling up in my bed and reading the last book of the Chronicles of Narnia until I have to go pick them up from school. I'll probably post at least once more while in London, but after that I'm not sure what my internet situation will be. Stories about New York and Nantucket may have to wait for a while.

Social Rehabilitation

It has recently occured to me that I have been almost entirely absent from any sort of social scene the past two and a half months. This hasn't bothered me too much, other than missing hanging out with friends and family, but upon realizing it, I've begun to see the effects its had...I've laughed at myself quite a lot for it actually, because its rather pathetic. I mean, I'm not exactly socially talented anyway, but after two months of interacting with no one but children and my employer, it's gotten even worse. Think of the most socially awkward person you know or can imagine, and then picture someone worse, and that's me. My friend Rachel is studying in London, and the last few days she was here before going home for her summer holidays, I helped her move to her new flat. The poor thing, I only realized now how terrible that must have been for her. I was terrible company! Being alone a lot, I'm perfectly content to sit in silence. I think that most people feel the need for conversation when they're with someone else, especially if they're friends. And I've more or less lost my conversation skills. I find myself trailing off my sentences, or stopping in the middle of a thought and finishing it in my head, or just babbling off on something no one but me is interested in, long after people have stopped listening. I'm sort of a background person here; people notice me and acknowledge me, such as the other moms and nannies, but I'm not really significant at all. A background person. And that's okay, temporarily. The only thing is that it sort of shoots me off to another planet, because I do have a brain (sometimes I wonder, but I'm pretty sure its up there) and it wanders when its not engaged in some sort of interaction. Wow, I can't believe I'm admitting this, but I guess as long as I'm on the subject of social alienation, I might as well: I have caught myself quite frequently having conversations with myself as I walk down the street--out loud. Now this wouldn't be so bad at home where there aren't all that many people, but London is a bustling city with tons of people on the street almost all the time. Yeah...fortunately they are generally pretty quiet conversations, but they are nonetheless out loud. Or I'll catch myself humming or singing or whistling, and not realizing it (all the while wondering why people are looking at me funny). On my Stonehenge trip, I made a few friends, which I think I mentioned in that post. One of them, Brad, is studying in London, so he gave me his number so we could hang out. It took a while for me to get a chance to set something up with him, but today we finally got together. Oh my. The poor guy. He and one of his friends, a cute girl named Natalie, met me at Fortnum and Mason and we did a little chocolate shopping before heading to Leicster Square and China Town to meet another of their friends and to go to lunch. My brain sort of shorted and suddenly I had nothing I could think of to say to anyone. I know its sort of just like that when you're with people you don't really know, but its worse for me now because when I don't have something to say, my mind wanders off and I start thinking about all sorts of nothings, and I miss half the conversation and look spacey or uninterested. I think its a bad sign if people keep asking you if you're okay during conversations, like Brad did at lunch. Oops! So, I will beg everyone's patience when I come home. Ease me back into the world of normal people that socialize. Rehabilitate my neglected social skills and soon enough I'm sure I'll be able to carry on a decent conversation without slipping into my own reverie and imagination. Maybe. I'm not making any promises ;)

One Ticket to Neverland, Please

I myself am somewhat tired of these posts that are less of happenings and more of ponderings. My purpose in actually doing this blog was to let people know what I'm doing on this side of the pond, not so much to make you endure the mess that is my mind. However, lately I've been doing more thinking than seeing and doing, so I'm afraid this is what you're stuck with. I've had another apostrophe. I mean epiphany. And that is that James Barrie knew what he was talking about when he wrote Peter Pan. Growing up is lame, because most of us do it wrong. I think as children we see grown ups as the serious, boring, responsible ones. They are the authorities, the ones who know everything, the final word. It's sort of exciting as we get old enough to finally have some responsibility, some say in the way things happen. The terrible part about it, though, is that we forget all the things we knew when we were kids. Like how to imagine and how to believe. The more I've thought about it, the more horrified I've been. The value of the things grown ups leave behind when they get older is immense and the fact that it's forgotten is absolutely absurd. I can't think of another way to explain it but that its like watching someone shove hundred dollar bills into the shredder. The jaw dropping, staggering ridiculousness of it, the reckless waste it is! It's no wonder that in Neverland all grown ups are pirates. This does relate to London, I promise. I'm getting there. And I'm sorry that all of this is sort of duh epiphanies. It's nothing new or original, it just all suddenly has meaning to me now. Anyway, if people held onto the attitudes and mindsets they had when they were children, while maturing otherwise, think of what the world would be like. People would be quick to make friends and slow to make enemies. They'd be loyal and honest. They would have a strong sense of justice. They would reach out to help each other. They wouldn't see the point in drawing out disagreements and misunderstandings because they would see that there are better, more enjoyable things to be done with their time. They would cheer each other on instead of trying get ahead of each other. I mean the list of improvements it would make in the world is endless. So why do we leave all that behind when we get older? Why do we (speaking about the adult world in general) come to think that other people aren't human? Why do we think our world is the most important? Why do we keep our eyes down when we walk down the street instead of smiling at strangers and neighbors? Why do we feel the need to get ahead of everyone else? I'm speaking in generalizations, remember, but it just seems so...silly. So pointless. When we try so hard to make life better for ourselves, we end up making it more of a struggle for everyone to exist. If, instead, everyone had an eye out for everyone else--if everyone cared and wondered and acted--we'd eliminate an enormous amount of the world's issues. If we smiled instead of scowled, if we laughed instead of shouted, if we befriended instead of shunned, wouldn't we come to understand each other better? Pirates indeed. I have been, once again, remarkably fortunate to have adults in my life that are amazing and wonderful and know what its all about. And I know it's not fair to make generalizations, so no one take offense, please :)Anyway, this relates to London because I've been getting more and more frustrated with myself and my inability to fully pull myself away from this rubbish attitude I've had lately. I've just been so tired and almost resigned to finish up my time in this job and finally get on with my life. Hello--I'm living in London and getting paid for it. I've learned more about myself in the past two months than I ever could have imagined. For me to complain is absurd. Which is why it's been so irritating to me that I still am struggling with being here! I kept thinking "oh these kids, these kids!" and how exhausting and frustrating they were and how ready I was to be done working with them. But that just didn't sit well with me; kids aren't born mean and spiteful and ungrateful. I mean, they are straight from heaven! They are pure and innocent and wonderful. So why should I be blaming anything on them? And then I realized that it hasn't been the kids that have been making my life difficult....it's been the adults. When just me and the kids are together, we have loads of fun. Yes, there are disagreements and issues, but we work them out just fine. It seems like when we're with their parents, everything is such a drag and is so much more complicated than it has to be. I've had the song "Elaborate Lives" from Aida stuck in my head ever since this thought struck me. Adults tend to view life as complicated and intricate. Children see things as simple and clear. Maybe they aren't always right, but its just...simple. And with simplicity comes the ability to slow down, to think, to understand, to relax. To stop running around like a chicken with its head cut off and just spend time enjoying life, rather than trying to pack it full of all these accessories and extravagances. These are good people. I don't mean to imply anything contrary to that, its just that I think there is so much that they could do without that would make their lives so much more enjoyable. Since their life is so elaborate, it makes it difficult for them to relax and actually enjoy what they have, including each other. It's really sad to watch, and really frustrating. They ar so close to happiness, but all they seem to be able to achieve is amusement. That's not enough for me. Not nearly. I guess my solution isn't to never grow up. As much as we would all love to stay kids and never have to worry about mortgages or car payments or changing diapers or scrubbing dishes, I think growing up is exciting and gives us all a chance to learn and contribute and experience. I don't think growing up ever ends, either. Which means its never too late to turn around and remember the things we knew when we were kids. I'm sort of slow on the uptake, so I'm sure all of you have already realized this. I guess I did, too. It just never really applied to me before. That's my problem; I learn things on time, I just don't really learn them and apply them to myself until much later. Someday I'll be on top of things.

Bath and Stonehenge

Yesterday was a pretty good day, as days here in London go. Okay, that's a lie, it was absolutely fantastic. Woke up, got the girls off to school as usual, went to Maggie's cute assembly on Roald Dahl, cleaned up the girls' rooms, and then what? Oh, well, then I left for the day to go explore Bath and Stonehenge. Oh my heavens. It was incredible! I got on a big coach with forty or so other people and we headed out of London with Chris and Tony, our driver and guide respectively. Tony was lots of fun and easy going. We drove past Windsor Castle, the Queen's country home, on our way out of the city. We drove through the countryside, which is so, so beautiful. It was a long drive into Bath, but well worth it since I got to see that beautiful landscape. Bath itself is a positively lovely city! It's also the home of Johnny Depp, but sadly, I didn't see him. I did, however, visit the Roman Baths and the ancient city of Aquae Sulis! It was so neat to be in a place that has so much history. I mean, people used those hot springs over two thousand years ago! It was fun to wander around and imagine what it must have been like to visit it when it was a Roman spa. While I was in Bath, I saw the house where Jane Austen grew up, the house of General Wolfe, and the home of General Nelson. Also, on our way out of the coach station in London, we drove past the house Alfred Hitchcock lived in. Anyway, Bath was a lot of fun to wander around in. It's so different from other English towns. After Bath, we headed towards Stonehenge. Tony was chatting away at the microphone for most of the drive, and suddenly said, "We'll be to our pub in about five minutes--there's Stonehenge to your right--and we'll have about an hour to eat supper." It was so strange to drive right past Stonehenge! Like it was off the side of the road on I-15, just sitting there. I mean, how would it be to drive past Stonehenge on your way to work every day? Anyway, we got to the pub in Durrington, just up the road a couple miles from Stonehenge, and ate dinner. It was absolutely delicious, and since I was on my own, I sat with people I didn't know and therefore made new friends! There were five people close-ish to my age, and four of them were a girl-boy pair, so I wasn't really overly friendly with them at first because I didn't want to be annoying. Come to find out, however, both of them were brother and sister, not boyfriend and girlfriend, so we ended up having loads of fun talking and exploring Stonehenge! Dianna and Eric (I think those were their names...) sat sort of close to me on the coach, so we had talked a little before. Brad and Elise were at the very back of the coach, so dinner was the first time I talked with them, since we were all pretty spread out in Bath. Dianna and Eric just graduated from university and are traveling for fun. Brad is studying in London and Elise, who will be a senior in high school next year, came out to visit him. There was an Australian whose name escapes me who I talked to a bit, also. When we got to Stonehenge, only half our group could go past the ropes at a time. Dianna and Eric were in the first group and the rest of us were in the second. When Brad, Elise, Aussie, and I got to go in, we had loads of fun taking pictures and such. Now, until recently, I haven't had much interaction with people who aren't ten years younger than me or more. Mr. Oram's art history group was here this past weekend, and I spent a lot of time with my friend Rachel Burnham helping her move into her flat for the fall before she went home for the summer. Up until this past weekend, though, all my adult conversations have been with parents about their kids. So, I'm afraid my social skills were a bit rusty and sometimes I found myself going on about something utterly and completely dull and useless, and therefore felt a bit ridiculous. It was fun to watch Elise and Brad have so much fun together, though. It made me wish my siblings were here to turn Stonehenge into a playground with me! It was so incredible to stand right next to those stones--to touch them! I can't describe just how stunning it was. I mean, I've seen pictures of those rocks all my life, and heard about the mystery and phenomenon that they are. And there I was, touching them, goofing off on them with my tour buddies like it was a jungle gym. It really was so fun. I wish I wasn't such a social gimp. I realized the other day that I haven't had much of a personality here. I mean, I'm either wandering around by myself or working. Working with these girls requires me to be a bit more grown up than I like to be. If I'm totally goofy, they walk all over me. So, I had some trouble being comfortable being social. I think it was okay, though, because Brad gave me his number and said to give him a call if I wanted to do something. Anyway, it was a really amazing day. I loved Stonehenge and Bath was beautiful. Tomorrow will be my last big day to explore. Next week I might be able to do some quick things, but the girls don't have club after school since its their last week in school, so they have to be picked up at three thirty every day. Wednesday is the twins' last day, and Thursday is little Farran's last day. Then, we have about five or six days til we leave for the States! Pretty wild.